


Started to Deserve It

by auntieshakespeare



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dissociation, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Sexual Assault, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam Winchester Needs a Hug, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 13:08:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15316161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auntieshakespeare/pseuds/auntieshakespeare
Summary: Set between seasons 9 and 10: With Dean gone Sam begins to fixate on all of the corrosive beings that have taken up host in his body. He aims to fix himself through self-destruction.





	Started to Deserve It

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Alibis" by Marianas Trench
> 
> Supernatural has never explored Sam's trauma to my liking. The writers always come off as dismissive of his pain and the heavily coded rape implications are basically never acknowledged. So this is me, card carrying member of the Sam Winchester Fan Club, attempting to grapple with Sam's personal trauma as well as my own in a way that's healthy-ish and only occasionally triggering. Cheers.

It starts by accident. Gadreel's grace has been extracted from his body, but the thought of it lingers with him, even months after his plans have failed and he finds himself alone, chopping up ingredients for a spell. He's distracted by his failures and by the absence of Kevin and Dean and ends up missing the root on the cutting board, jamming the knife into his finger instead. It's a deep wound, but nothing he can't handle alone (and he's going to have to get used to that again, being alone). The pain is minor but aggravating and as he watches the blood flow out of his finger Sam thinks about his inability to keep the vital things in his life within him.

Thinks about how soon he'll have nothing good inside him at all. 

Gadreel may be gone, but there were others. Meg, with her dry humor and cigarettes blackening his lungs. Gary and his teenage thirst. Ruby's blood. Lucifer.

Gadreel and Ruby had him for months, Meg and Gary for days, but Lucifer. Lucifer lived in Sam for centuries. Even seperated in the Cage, Lucifer worked his way into Sam's body in every conceivable fashion. But no, Sam's body was topside, walking around and ruining lives. Lucifer was inside his soul.

Detached, Sam notices the flow of blood from his injured finger has become light and sluggish. He disinfects the wound, not even feeling the sting of alcohol, before bandaging it. He wanders into bed and stares at his hand, recalls Lucifer's fascination with his fingers, how he loved to stroke them idly while he monologued about the next torture he had prepared to inflict on his vessel. 

There's a phantom pain growing in his hand paired with the urgent desire to break his own fingers. The intensity increases by the second, a panicked need accompanied by a thought? A feeling? _Gottabreakgottasmashneedthepainneeditneeditneedit--_

Sam punches the wall until he hears a _crack_. The index, middle, and ring fingers on his right hand hang in a sickening droop, already starting to swell and purple. The fog in his mind begins to lift and just like that the pain rushes in, violent and intoxicating.

He drives himself to Urgent Care and waits nearly two hours to be seen, but it's fine. His attention is dedicated wholly to the throbbing, swollen mess of his hand. He's broken inside, he's broken outside. 

Poetic, Lucifer says in his mind, but Lucifer isn't in his mind, not really. Not since Castiel pulled some of Sam's infection into himself. No the only things left in Sam's body are rot and ruin. Lucifer's fingerprints burned into his insides, a thousand in his brain, because he liked to play with Sam's memories. A hundred or so in his heart ("You're all heart, Samuel, it'll be the end of you. Oh wait..."), even more down below, deep inside places that no one had touched since college, since Jess and Brady and--

Sam is driving home, fingers bandaged together and held straight in a brace and he has no memory of being called into the doctor's office at all, let alone leaving, but he must have. A glance down to the Impala's bench seat shows he had a prescription for painkillers filled at some point. It should worry him, but this isn't the first instance of Sam losing time, and for once he's fairly certain it has nothing to do with demons. Not literal ones, anyway.

Laying in bed that night Sam stares at the brace on his hand, metal glinting in the dim light, and he feels _hungry_. Like with Ruby all those years ago he sees danger in his body and he wants more. Craves it.

The first time he hurts himself it's an accident. It's everything that comes after that Sam tries to justify.


End file.
